


Where Gods Come To Rest

by Emiza



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Tomb Raider, F/M, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, tomb raiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 19:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiza/pseuds/Emiza
Summary: Angela is the daughter of two renowned archeologists, who died in their search for the impossible. She wants nothing to do with that part of her life, but someone wants her to continue their research.And she might just find more than empty legends and bedtime stories.





	Where Gods Come To Rest

**Author's Note:**

> I am back!  
> This time, it’s a fic for gencyweek and the prompt for day 5 was “ultimate”!  
> You can find the rest of my fics/drabbles for the week [here on my tumblr](http://emiza.tumblr.com/tagged/Gencyweek2)!
> 
> Make sure to check out [this awesome fanart](https://anilovesgency.tumblr.com/post/164369144283/) by [Anilovesgency](http://anilovesgency.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> This is really just a mix of two ideas I had, one with a resurrecting archeologist and one Tomb Raider au. Then I figured that I could perhaps turn it into a series if inspiration strikes again in the future, hence why I’m posting it here instead of tumblr. Each chapter will then be an individual story. So we’ll see what the future holds! :)
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The scent of old books always seemed to ease Angela’s mind. It reminded her of her childhood, of a private library with tall stairs and a ceiling she had to bend her head far back to see, of hours upon hours spent trying to solve mysteries her parents brought home from their long trips.

She could no longer return there, the estate had been sold the weeks after the funeral. But the public library in a city far away from home sufficed just as well. It was the place she went to when she felt anxious, when she was standing before a large decision, when something had happened and she had no idea what to do.

Over the years, she had come there a lot.

And it was there they found her.

Thinking back, she couldn’t remember exactly _why_ she had been there in the first place. What kind of sorrow had gripped her heart this time. None of it mattered, not then and not later, as _they_ walked in.

Men dressed in black well-fitting suits. Lawyers? Bodyguards? Or something else entirely?

And in the front, leading them without a hint of a smile on her lips and without an emotion upon her face, was a tall woman with eyes even colder than ice.

“Angela Ziegler?” She asked, a hint of a French accent in the way she rolled the r’s upon her tongue. “Please come with us.”

Angela looked up from whatever book she was holding, couldn’t for her life understand who the woman was nor why she was surrounded by these men, looking as if they could take her on with their hands tied behind their backs. Instincts screaming at her that something was _wrong_ , that she needed to escape.

“Excuse me?” She asked, tried to be polite and tried not to cause a scene.

The woman looked her over, a critical gaze. “Are you not Angela Ziegler? Daughter of the _infamous_ archeologist couple?” A pause, Angela biting back the answer, and the woman gave just the faintest shadow of a smile. “Then please. Come with us.”

Angela dared a glance around herself, saw no way out and, strangely enough, she saw no other people in the library. She turned back to the French woman, narrowed her eyes and carefully put the book back in the shelf.

“Who are you?”

The woman’s expression remained unchanged, but she tilted her head just an inch to the side. And as she began walking, the men around Angela did as well, forcing her to follow.

“What do you want?” She tried again and was met only with silence, walking through an empty library where each step echoed in the high ceiling. Only when they exited, a black car waiting on them, did she realize what was going on.

She was being kidnapped.

A scream was ready to tear itself from her throat, but got stuck there as something clicked behind her, something cool pressed against her back.

The woman entered the car and Angela was forced to sit down as well, a gun at her head as if she would try to escape. Even if she did manage to escape, these people looked like they had resources enough to hunt her down again, and she quite liked her life.

The first five minutes of the ride were spent in silence, and Angela couldn’t even guess where they were taking her. Couldn’t see anything out of the toned windows. And only when she started to relax ever so slightly, when she was about to ask yet another question, the French lady spoke up.

“Your parents were famous, or should I say _infamous_ , for most of their research.” She cleared her throat, brushed away some dust from her coat. “The source of Immortality, as they described it, was their last project and their greatest mystery.”

Angela shifted. The gun clicked, ready to fire.

“They were ridiculed for it. No mercy for liars.” The woman glanced over at Angela. “But their research is true. There _is_ a source of immortality. However, your parents were too skeptical. With all right, of course.” A short pause. “They’ve coded their documents and we are unable to crack it. Hence why we need you.”

“Ah,” Angela swallowed, found her voice, didn’t dare to look at anyone or anything but the gun at her head. “You want to find it? The old relic my parents spoke of? The one they died for?”

A short laughter, sounding amused and yet the woman’s expression didn’t change.

“No, my dear. We want _you_ to find it.”

 

*

 

With her hands tied behind her back and a bag over her head, covering her eyesight and muffling any sound, Angela could do little to escape.

At one point, she was sure, they had entered an airplane. Judging by the sounds and the tilt of the world and how her ears popped uncomfortably until they finally landed again. But the flight gave her a lot of time to think.

Her parents had lived for their travels and researches, of mysteries they woke to life once again, and they somehow managed to find impossible clues where everyone else could stare themselves blind and yet find nothing. And Angela vividly remembered so many of their mysteries in her childhood, the relics they brought home, sometimes just made of clay and dull metal, other times glimmering of gold and precious stones.

They sometimes told her stories, those mysteries which sounded a bit too mysterious with their magic and impossibility, and she saw them more like bedtime stories than actual truths.

Their search for The Source of Immortality had been one of those stories. And just like any bedtime story, Angela had grown out of listening to it over and over, to the point where she could fall asleep from the mere boredom instead. But unlike every other relic they had tried to find, this was something so _impossible_ that the world had ridiculed her parents to the grave for their belief in its existence. And a story like that held no importance to anyone but the ones who grieved.

So what could the French lady possibly want with it?

Her thoughts were cut short as the bag was ripped off from her head, finally allowing her to see the world around her. Not that there were much to see, sitting in the back of a small truck with two guns pointed at her head.

The French lady was nowhere to see.

“Where are you taking me now?” She asked, tried to keep her voice level. The men around her didn’t answer, but one of them, with a silly cowboy hat on his head, met her eyes briefly. “What you are searching for are nothing but legends and rumors. My parents _died_ for these lies. And I suspect you will meet a similar fate.”

“Shut it,” one of them grumbled. Gun clicking.

But here was the thing; the French lady had told her that they needed her to decode her parents’ documents. Surely, they would be able to do it themselves with enough expertise and patience. If they could wait a couple of years. Angela had the feeling they couldn’t, and thus, they _needed_ her.

Alive.

“Threaten me all you want,” she said, lifting her chin just a bit, staring into the eyes of the man across from her, the one who willingly met her gaze. Found his brown eyes warm and welcoming. “You need me alive. Or you can say goodbye to that precious legend of yours.”

The man’s lips split into a grin, a small shift of his hand, and then everything turned into chaos.

A click and six rapid shots, so fast Angela couldn’t even _hear_ the six shots, and yet the men around them fell down as dead as the grave. She didn’t even have time to react, to panic over the fact that he could’ve hit _her_.

“Huh,” she breathed, stared at the man who blew the steam off his gun as if he was in a movie of some kind. “Betraying your own so quickly?”

And the man grinned at her, breaking the plastic binding her hands behind her back.

“Never was one of ‘em. Nothin’ to betray.” The man grinned at her, voice a southern drawl that would’ve in any other situation made her grin along and play his game. Perhaps even ask him to buy her a drink or two.

“We’re gon’ make a run for it,” he continued, reloading his gun swiftly and cutting off the plastic binding her wrists. “I hope you can run in those shoes.”

He gave her high heels a critical look and she only scoffed at him. “I can climb a mountain in high heels. I suggest you don’t worry about me and worry more about keeping up.”

Without waiting for his reply, she threw herself out of the truck, tumbling to the ground, her ears ringing until she managed to get up and start running.

Wilderness was the only thing around her. Wilderness and snow and no sight of civilization.

“Where the _fuck_ -“ she began, cut short from an explosion behind her. And when she glanced back, she saw the truck on fire, the other cars in the line pausing. Gunshots ringing in the air, and then her rescuer appeared next to her, panting and grinning, holding on to his hat.  

“Seriously.” She stared at him, felt a slight tremble in her hands. “What is going on?”

“C’mon,” he said, grabbed her hand and forced her to follow him, running through bushes and around trees, moving closer and closer to the mountainside.

Only when the gunshots echoed far away in the distance did they pause close to a cliffside, Angela bending forward and gasping for breath. Sure, she could run high heels alright, but in _snow_? She wasn’t Wonder Woman.

“Where-“ she wheezed, looked up and stared the man down. “Where are we? Who are you? Why did you save me?”

“Whoa there, easy now. One question at a time,” he huffed, sitting down on a rock and pulling forth a cigar, lighting it up. “We are in Nepal. Talon’s searching for The Source of Immortality or somethin’ and I was tasked to stop them.” A pause, a shrug. “Figured I could just as well rescue you on the way.” A long drag of the cigar, smoke leaving his lips with a sigh. “Name’s Jesse McCree.”

Angela looked him over, wondered why the universe was so cruel as to send a cowboy to save her. “A pleasure.”

McCree didn’t speak much more, seemed content on smoking and calming his nerves. A hand on his gun. A watchful gaze on the forest around them.

And Angela moved closer to the mountainside, to the tall wall of rock and ice rising before them. Wondered just why she was taken to Nepal, couldn’t remember any of her parents’ stories ever mentioning the place. The Source of Immortality’s legends spoke mostly of the regular things; an artifact, probably a ritual as well, in a country far away from Europe, of danger and magic, and a monk from-

“A monk from what would be Nepal,” she whispered, things clicking to place. _Finally_.

McCree glanced over at her briefly.

And Angela remembered those documents her parents’ had talked about just the days before they died. The ones found in Nepal, of an old monk who had supposedly seen The Source of Immortality and survived to tell the tale.

“ _That_ must’ve been why they brought me here!” she said, turning to McCree while moving closer to the rocky wall. “They must’ve stolen my parents’ last documents before they could code them! It led them right here!”

“Must be important to them,” McCree mumbled, chewing on the end of his cigar. “Glad I rescued you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not my parents though. I don’t find clues or leads where no one else can, like they did.” She waved dismissively with her hand before placing it on the rock before her. “I want nothing to do with old tombs and mysteries and things that can get me killed!”

“Shame. They certainly want something to do with you.”

Shaking her head, Angela turned away from McCree, finding him to be no help at all. And really, could she even trust him? A man who dressed and acted like a cowboy, who could kill six men without even blinking, a hand so quick and an aim so great she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against him. _Who had even sent him_? Why was he there in the first place? Someone who just _figured he could save her on the way_ didn’t sound very trustworthy in her books. And nothing of this would’ve happened if she only had stayed home that day and not gone to the library and if she only had burnt her parents’ research instead of packing it down in boxes, if only she had been able to let go so easily and-

She blinked, stared at the wall before her.

At the markings carved into the stone.

Markings she recognized.

“Huh, that’s strange,” she whispered, narrowed her eyes and brushed the ice away to see the carvings better. Her mind clicking the pieces together with no effort at all, like she had practiced so many times as a child through her parents’ games.

“McCree,” she called, didn’t turn away from the markings as if they would disappear if she took her eyes off them. “I think I found something. I believe it’s pointing at a secret entrance.”

“Nah, nah, I didn’t come here to find the thing, only to stop Talon from finding it,” McCree all but grumbled, but he still walked up to Angela, glancing over her shoulder to see the markings she was pointing at.

“Well,” Angela huffed, started to walk along the side of the wall, finding more and more carvings. “If we find it first, then we stop them from finding it.”

McCree did some incoherent sounds of protest before he followed her, huffing and puffing and obviously displeased with it all. But well, it wasn’t like Angela was _forcing_ him to follow her or anything, so his displeasure wasn’t her fault in any way.

They rounded a sharp corner and passed a large boulder with even more markings, before they found the secret entrance. And if it hadn’t been for the carvings pointing at it, they would never have known of its existence; melted into the rock, an illusion with a passage so narrow they would have to walk sideways to enter. Angela looked into the darkness with excitement in her stomach. McCree just shook his head slowly.

“Nuh-uh, not going in there.”

Angela shrugged before entering, shooting back a “your loss.” And then she was swallowed by darkness.

 

*

 

The passage was long and narrow, McCree lighting their way from behind her with a phone. All along the walls were carved markings of a time long past, telling stories and warning words to any who would dare to enter with evil in their hearts.

Now, Angela didn’t know about McCree, but the most evil thing she had ever done was checking out a book from the library in middle school and then never returning it. And perhaps stepping on a spider or two. She supposed that if anyone was in real danger here, it was the one who had killed six men without hesitation. And then blew everything up.

Yep, she should totally be safe.

The air in the tunnel was easy to breathe, and she felt a faint wind upon her skin. Wherever this tunnel led, it was outside. And _outside_ was good. _Outside_ wasn’t a tomb.

They walked for only a couple of minutes, the darkness and the narrowness making it feel longer, until they stumbled out into an open space. Standing just an arm’s length away from a steep cliff, the sound of rushing water so far below that the fall would kill them before the water did, and just to the side was an old, narrow bridge of rope and wood. It didn’t look safe at all.

But just across the cliff, over the dangerous bridge and cold water, were ruins. Large and old, a temple rising high up to the mountain top and yet without hope of ever reaching it. So completely concealed in this valley in the mountain.

McCree glanced over at her and groaned at the look on her face, so full of awe and wonder that it covered the two of them.

“Come on,” she said, didn’t bother to tug at his arm as she headed towards the bridge. Had a feeling that he would follow anyway. “This might be it!”

This was what her parents had searched for, what they had dedicated their lives for, what they had died for.

And this was what Angela had vowed to leave behind.

Yet as she started walking over the bridge, holding on tight to the rope in case the wood beneath her feet gave in, she couldn’t help the excitement buzzing in her stomach. A fleeting thought that perhaps she would be able to do what her parents had not. To finish their search.

Behind her, McCree followed, cursing all the way over the bridge and Angela supposed it was a miracle it actually held for them. Only when they were on safe ground once more, did McCree bend forward on his knees, breathing heavy with a hand to his chest. Angela looked him over.

“Not a fan of heights?”

The glare she received made her smile and she turned back towards the ruins. Running a hand over the closest wall, she read the faint symbols, brain working to try and put the pieces together of an ancient language she had learnt as a child.

“ _The Shambali_ ,” she murmured, wiping away some dirt from the letters before walking up to the large door, speaking loudly so McCree could hear her. “My parents spoke about them often, though not really in relation to The Source. It was thought that their rituals could connect people mentally, almost like a hivemind. Just another one of their stories, but…”

She trailed off, pushing open the large doors. They whined as they swung open, revealing a wide corridor ahead, a gust of old air brushing her cheek.

“But perhaps,” she murmured to herself, walking inside with wide eyes, staring at the hallway. At the tall walls decorated with paintings, at the floor of white stone, at the emptiness. “There might be some truth in those stories after all.”

Steps echoed through the hallway, Angela’s heels clicking and making a sound that had probably never been heard in that place before. To even think that they were the first humans to step foot there after so many years, was a thought that almost made her knees weak.

Her steps were joined by McCree’s as he caught up to her, pressing close with a suspicious look around them. Fingers thrumming on his gun.

“Better be careful,” he said, regarded the walls and the floors as if they would swallow her up at any moment. “Places like these have traps.”

“Traps?” Angela huffed, smiling at his silliness. “This place has been abandoned for a thousand years. Probably even longer! I was amazed that the bridge still worked but traps-“

A soft click interrupted her, left foot sinking down just a millimeter, but it made her pause. McCree had the time to give her a meaning, smug look before a hatch opened from above, dropping down a swing of spikes. Heading straight for their heads.

And before Angela could even react, McCree had whipped out his gun and shot off the rope, letting the swing of spikes crash into the floor instead.

“Traps,” he said, blowing off the smoke of his gun. “Always last longer than civilization.”

Angela hummed, stepping over the deadly swing and tried to pay more attention to where she walked. “Thank you. Seriously, I would be gone for if it wasn’t for you.”

He tipped his hat at her. “Don’t mention it.”

They continued to walk, McCree disarming two more traps before they were able to do any harm, and all the while, she tried her best to decipher the paintings around them. The ones covering the walls, seeming to tell the story of harmony and tranquility. All matching the stories she had heard as a child of the monks. And at the end of the hallway was two large doors, a single figure painted on it, hands clasped in their knee, six more arms sprouting from their back. Painted in gold, surrounded by its shimmer.

McCree met her gaze, raised an eyebrow with gun ready in his hands, and together they pushed the massive doors open.

The first that hit them was the sound of water.

They stepped into the room, pausing at the edge of what had once been a bridge of stone, now crumbled and ruined into the water below. And the water ran around the room, current pulling it around and then out somewhere to the side, continuing in an underwater cave and Angela had no plans on exploring that part.

Instead, she looked over to the middle of the room. Rising taller than the platform they were standing on, was a smaller, open room. If she squinted, she could make out a pedestal and something gold in the middle, and her heart beat just a bit faster with the realization that she was so close. She could almost touch it.

“We need to get over there,” she said, pointing at the pedestal and tugging at McCree’s sleeve as if he would be able to throw her over. But reality wasn’t as kind, and she rolled up the sleeves of her own shirt, retying her ponytail.

“You’re not going to swim through that water,” McCree said, ready to hold her back, but she looked around the limited place they had. Finding a rope next to some human remains, she tied one end around a large stone. McCree gave her another doubting look. “This guy died for a reason. Don’t reckon it would be a good idea to follow.”

That made Angela pause, looking back at the remains. “There’s a sword poking out of the chest. I don’t think I’m risking the same.”

“You never know.”

She rolled her eyes at him, found it ridiculous because they were the only two living humans there, and even if they weren’t, a bullet would be a more likely end than a sword. And so she didn’t hesitate as she threw the rock over the gap, slinging it around one of the pillars rising tall from the middle. She gave it a hard tug, found that it held, and then she stepped to the ledge and threw herself out.

McCree called after her as she swung over the water, felt it brush her ankle and she shivered at the cold. Before she slammed into the wall, she got a good grip on it, found footing and released the rope. Slowly, she began climbing, and true to her words from before, the heels didn’t pose a problem. They weren’t _ideal_ , but she could make it work.

She felt McCree watching her closely as she climbed, heard him whistle at one point when she took a wrong step and sent stones rumbling down into the water and yet didn’t fall in with it. It wasn’t a wonder that she reached the top without much trouble, had more to do with skill and practice, even though she had never done it _for real_ once.

Pushing herself up over the edge, she gave thumbs up to McCree before turning to the pedestal.

Smooth, white stone rising up from the floor. The floor itself carved with symbols, speaking of dragons and souls. It didn’t make much sense to her, so she shrugged it off, turning instead to the thing on top of the pedestal.

A golden orb, seeming to shine from within, with carved patterns that didn’t seem to mean anything but were there for decoration. Lying undisturbed on the stone, hadn’t been touched for a thousand years and longer.

Thinking back on the remains at the door, she wondered if it had been worth dying for. Wondered how anyone could die with The Source of Immortality in the same room, how The Source hadn’t saved them.

She reached out, hesitated with a deep breath, and then grabbed the orb. It was heavy in her hands, seemed to pulsate from within, a warmth spreading over her skin and she got the sudden feeling of _not wanting to let go_ , of clinging so desperately to something.

She held it up in her hands for McCree to see. “I got it!”

The words had barely left her before a rumble shook the ground, stones falling down from above, and she almost fell with it.

“Another trap?” She called with worry, searching the room for the next death-trap. But across the gap, McCree shook his head slowly, gun high and ready to be fired.

“No,” he answered, another rumble shaking the ground. “That’s Talon. They’ve found us.”

“ _How_?” Angela breathed, shaking her head slowly before her instincts kicked in. She put the orb inside her shirt, figured that would be the safest place for it, and she felt it warm her chest.

At the edge, she pulled up the rope from the water and tied it a bit better around the pillar. Then threw the end back to McCree who caught it, trying it on his own side. It wasn’t a bridge, but it would work.

The sound of a helicopter above them, a shadow blocking the sun from the open roof.

Without hesitation, she threw herself at the rope, gliding down it and tumbling to the ground at McCree’s side. He pulled her up by her arm, tugging her along as they started to run back the way they came.

“There they are!”

“Don’t shoot the girl!”

Cursing, McCree shot the agents coming their way, pausing briefly to pick up one of their guns to give Angela a way to defend herself. She shifted the weapon in her hands, and it felt clumsy and weird and she hadn’t gotten enough training as young to be able to handle it as well as McCree did.

They continued down the corridor, Angela trying not to look at any faces, covered in dark cloth or not. And they made it back to the bridge, saw the agents across from it, looking around in confusion and amazement. Above, the helicopter dropped down more agents to the room they had just left.

“How good are you at swimming?” McCree asked, looking down at the water far below and visibly paling at the very thought.

“We are _not_ jumping,” Angela huffed, narrowed her eyes at him. “We would die from the fall itself. It would be like slamming into concrete from this height. But I wish you good luck if you would like to try.”

He gave a soft whistle, reloaded his gun with a click, and then nodded towards the agents across the bridge. “Guess we’ll have to do it the hard way then.”

Angela took a deep breath, relaxing her grip on the gun, held it in front of her as she aimed. Breathing out, she pulled the trigger.

She hit one of them in the arm, but that was enough to cause some confusion. Enough time for McCree to put a bullet in each and every one of them, bodies falling to the ground and no longer moving.

But they had no time to pause and breathe, steps echoing in the hallway behind them. Angela walked first over the bridge, McCree following close behind, and when he wasn’t focused on the imminent death below them, he could cross without much problem.

Once over, Angela stepped over the dead bodies, waited at the passage as McCree cut off the ropes to the bridge. Watched it fall and giving the other agents no way of following them. Then he joined Angela, walking into the passage first because there would most likely be more agents on the other side and McCree would be able to take them out quickly.

Walking through the passage felt much stranger than last time, as if it was narrower and darker, the walls closing in on them.

Angela had to force herself to breathe.

Just a meter before the exit, McCree paused. Spoke in a hushed whisper. “Grab my sleeve and don’t let go. We’re gon’ make a run for it.”

She did as she was told, taking a hold on his sleeve. He gave her a nod before he stepped out. Gunshots rang in the air, flying just past her ear before McCree took out the agents around them. And they ran, Angela didn’t know where until she was pushed inside a car, the lifeless driver pulled out and thrown into the snow before McCree climbed in.

“Buckle up!” He called before hitting the gas, driving in the same tracks Talon had created when they had arrived.

“How did they find us?” She asked, pressed back in the seat, ducking at every sound of a gunshot. “That was a secret passage! They shouldn’t have-“

Another gunshot interrupted her and McCree turned the car quickly, throwing them out on a road. In the distance, below the mountain, she could see a small city, a railroad running through it.

“Check your shoes,” McCree said, driving much faster than Angela would consider safe. Yet it felt safer than the agents behind them. She pulled off her heels, gently rubbing her cold feet, before she looked into the shoes. Held up a small piece of metal stuck to the heel and McCree gave it a single glance. “Tracking device. Figured. Don’t throw it, we can use it to lure them away.”

Nodding, she clutched the device close to her chest. Still felt the warmth of the orb against her skin underneath her shirt, wondered if it would protect her if she was shot. Wondered what would happen, what it would mean, if it didn’t.

They took a turn, Angela clutching the handle over the window to hold on for dear life, and they entered the small city. A train approaching fast.

“Are we going to jump?” She asked, nodding towards the train, mentally preparing herself for the pain. “I’m not sure we’d make it.”

“Nope,” McCree answered, popped the _P_ on his lips. “Throw the tracking device on it.”

Staring at him for only a second, she rolled down the window as he lined them up to the train. She took aim, hoped for the best, and threw the device onto the train.

Immediately, McCree took another turn, parking the car between two houses before stepping outside. Angela followed, carrying her shoes in her hands because she had a feeling they wouldn’t do much running.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we went with the train instead?”

McCree held a finger over his lips, shushing her as he peeked around the corner. Saw the vehicles with Talon approach, screaming about the train. He pulled back, motioning for Angela to follow.

“They’ll follow the train, won’t expect us to stay here. Gives us some time,” he explained, giving her a cocky grin. “You might be good at tombs and dead people. I’m good at the living.”

Angela only raised an eyebrow at him. Seemed to her that _he_ was the one good at dead people. Yet she followed in silence, ducking low as Talon drew past in panic, trying to catch up to the train. “Now what?”

“Now, we lay low for the next train,” he grumbled, tugging away a piece of plywood from the wall to allow her entrance into an abandoned building. “Shouldn’t be too long, but we can get a good night’s rest. Seems like you’d need it.”

She didn’t even have the energy to glare at him, simply huffed and entered the building. It smelled like an old attic, dust covering the floor and she was sure she saw a rat scurrying the corner. The building was in a worse shape than the temple ruins they had just visited, and that said _a lot_.

Sighing, shifting the gun in her hands, she sat down on the floor. Shoes forgotten to the side as she rubbed her poor feet. “If we’re gonna continue this, I’ll need some better shoes.”

McCree only grinned at her from his position at one of the dirty windows, gun in hand and ready to shoot any Talon agent who came too close.

The following hour was filled with tension, multiple Talon vehicles passing by, but McCree never had to shoot anyone. They waited another hour in silence, just to be safe, and when it seemed like no one would return to the village, Angela finally relaxed.

Sitting up straight, she finally pulled out the orb from her shirt, still felt its warmth where it had rested against her skin. Warm like the closeness of another, never burning hot.

“That the orb you stole?” McCree nodded towards the orb in her hands, sitting down across from her, gun returned to its holster.

“ _Stole_ is a strong word,” Angela mumbled, holding up the orb in the faint light from outside. Light played with the gold, showing of a million shades of yellow and orange and she doubted that it was made of gold in the first place. But there was no way for her to figure out just exactly what kind of material it was made of, couldn’t even date it to anything without the proper tools.

There wasn’t a single scratch on it, and if she hadn’t known better, she would’ve guessed it came from a modern jeweler. Not from the ruins of an ancient temple.

And just underneath, was a small rolled-up piece of parchment.

Frowning at the paper, she gripped it, tugging off the small string binding it to the orb, so thin and fine she hadn’t even seen it in the temple.

“Whatcha got there?” McCree asked and Angela thought he was asking an awful lot of questions. But he had also saved her life, so she didn’t complain.

“Seems like something a monk wrote,” she answered, rolled up the parchment and read it over a few times while trying to translate it. “And it looks like it’s been written in a hurry.”

A polite pause. “Can you translate it?”

She nodded, cleared her throat, and tried to translate it as accurately as she could.

“ _I had heard of the ritual, but I now question its true purpose. For the evil it has spawned can’t be measured by anything I have ever seen, poisoning the city from within and yet they do not realize._ ”

She paused, trying to ignore the look on McCree’s face that was turning more horrified by the second.

“ _I stole the orb from the chamber so that the ritual can never be repeated. It is better this way, for_ Hanamura _to be forgotten with time. For its evil to be burrowed. I vow to never return._ ”

Silence fell between them, and Angela put down the parchment, tugged it into a pocket of her pants so she wouldn’t lose it. McCree looked at her as if she had just told him the worst news he had ever heard.

“Ritual?” He finally spoke, voice weak and face pale. “What does it mean? And an _evil_? Why did the monk steal that _thing_? And what is _Hana_ -somethin’?”

Angela picked up the orb, holding it in her hands. Wondered the same as McCree, what kind of ritual it had been to spawn evil, what made the orb worth stealing. Wondered where all the pieces of the puzzle fit in.

“I don’t know what it means,” she shook her head, brushing a thumb gently over the orb. Smooth, with only small bumps and dips of the carvings. “There were a lot of rituals back in the day, some for good and some for evil. I think it comes down to what you believe. The monk obviously believed that it was an evil ritual, so he did his best to stop it.”

McCree looked her over, giving the orb a critical look. “Doesn’t sound too good. And the city?”

“The Lost City of Hanamura is supposed to be in Japan,” she spoke slowly, remembering her parents’ research. As if she had been trained for this since birth. “Close to the mountains, I think. But no one has been able to find it.” A shrug. “It’s lost for a reason.”

“Don’t tell me we’ll have to go there,” McCree groaned, dragging a hand down his face and Angela almost felt sorry for him, giving him a comforting smile. “What will we find there?”

Angela looked him straight in the eye, the golden glow of the orb mirrored in her blue eyes.

“The Source of Immortality.”

 

*

 

They bought a good pair of shoes for Angela, without high heels and more fit for running in. And they didn’t bump into any Talon agents on the airport, nor on the way to Japan, but their heavy presence still lingered. Suspicious looks from other travelers, men dressed in black suits looking away a little bit too quickly when their gazes were met.

They landed in Japan without any trouble. Intent on disappearing just as quickly again, they hired a car and left the city as quickly as they had arrived.

The drive up the mountains brought on more cold, and Angela was glad for the thick coats they had bought with the shoes. McCree still had his silly cowboy hat, seemed like he would take it to the grave with him.

“Are we sure the city exist?” McCree asked for the umpteenth time, giving her worried looks while she studied their surroundings. “It might be a legend for a reason.”

“I think they were just trying to hide its existence,” Angela answered in a hum, patting her bag, felt the warmth of the orb through the fabric. “But the monk seemed sure of his thing. And the orb must’ve come from _somewhere_.”

A pause, McCree opening and closing his mouth a few times before he spoke up again. “And you think it’s the wisest on bringing it back?”

“I don’t know,” Angela answered truthfully. “But it’ll lead us to the Source of Immortality, since the orb obviously isn’t it. My best guess is that whatever happened in the city, whatever made the monk steal the orb and made the city to fall into oblivion, has long passed.”

A soft grumble and McCree didn’t fully buy it. But at the same time, it was an abandoned, lost city that no one should’ve stepped foot in for _centuries_.

What evil could possibly remain?

They abandoned the car when the road became too narrow, and they settled for climbing the mountain by foot instead. The weather was stable and they had nothing to lose, even though McCree followed with a grumble of “this is a bad idea.”

Angela didn’t force him to follow her. She was perfectly capable of doing this on her own.

“We’re just walking aimlessly,” he complained the further away from the car they got. They had followed a narrow trail up on the mountain, pulsing through snow and light wind, and neither of them had any idea if the trail even led somewhere.

“We’re not,” she answered calmly, patting her bag with the orb, warmth surging up her arm. “I think it’s leading us here.”

“Great,” he grumbled back. “Followin’ a glowing orb. Nothing can go wrong.”

A heavy sigh escaped Angela and she stopped in her tracks, turning to face McCree. “If you want to return to the car; go ahead! I’ll find the city on my own!”

“I won’t leave you alone! It’s dangerous,” McCree shot back, taking a step closer to her, gesturing while he spoke. “Talon might catch up! They might find The Source before you, and then what? ‘sides, if I leave you now, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Hear the end of it _from who?_ ” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who even sent you? How can I know that _your_ organization won’t be as bad as Talon if you get your hands on The Source?”

He stumbled a bit over his words before shaking his head, slamming his fist against the icy wall next to him. “Doesn’t matter! The important thing here is that Talon doesn’t get to it! ‘cause if they do, that’ll be the end of everything as we know it!”

Angela shifted a bit, about to continue arguing with him, but then she saw the icy wall.

The hole McCree had made.

And the symbols underneath.

Without a word, she joined McCree’s side, ignoring his confused questions, inspecting the symbols closer. Ancient kanji, carved into the stone.

“What does it say?” McCree looked over her shoulder and their small argument was forgotten. After all, it wasn’t like Angela had much of a choice but to trust McCree, especially after everything he had done for her, even if those things were purely for selfish reasons.

Picking up a knife, she hacked away the rest of the ice, revealing the full text as well as a widening opening to the side.

“What does it say?” McCree repeated, shifting behind her as she read.

And then she turned around with a silly smile on her lips, excitement once again shining in her eyes.

“ _The Great City of Hanamura_ ,” she said, turning back to the wall. “There is also a warning scribbled here. _Do not enter or death shall befall you_.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“Very.” Angela smiled wider, gripping the knife tighter to get rid of the ice blocking the entrance. McCree quickly jumped in to help her with a knife of his own, and soon they had created an opening large enough for them to walk in.

McCree gestured to it, tilting his hat a bit. “Ladies first.”

And so she entered, with the orb burning in her bag and with the feeling of someone watching them.

 

*

 

The air felt old to breathe, the wide tunnel littered with spider webs and old human remains.

“I think they’re city guards,” she whispered, as if she was going to disturb the dead with her voice or the light from her phone. “If you look at that insignia on their armor. The twin dragons circling each other.”

McCree only grumbled at her in response, following her closely as she led the way through the tunnel. And it was a small relief when they exited the tunnel, breathing fresh air once more.

Blinking a bit against the sunlight, Angela looked out over the valley. A large village in ruins before them, and on the other side was a castle, tall walls surrounding it.

“We did it,” she whispered, felt tears in her eyes and a tremble in her voice. This was what her parents had died trying to find. And now she had done it for them, had walked in their footsteps without fully realizing it, had fulfilled what they had raised her to do.

McCree passed her, staring at the city with parted lips. Giving her a gentle pat on her back as he noticed the wetness of her eyes and although he said nothing, Angela nodded and took a deep breath.

Together, they walked down to the village, down stairs carved out of the mountain and over a small bridge of white stone, a calm river beneath.

It looked peaceful like that. As if it had simply been abandoned and time was the one thing claiming the buildings in front of them. There were no signs of a war and no invading soldiers, no remains at all but the ones in the tunnel. As if they had been the last ones to try and get out.

“I don’t get it,” Angela whispered, walking amongst the houses. “Why would anyone abandon the city?”

McCree shrugged. “Might get some clues if we look around.”

“We might,” she hummed, looking further down the street where she could see the tall wall rise up. “Or, we might find The Source at the castle. I doubt it would be hidden in the village.”

As they walked through the village, entering an occasional house out of curiosity, they found everything from clay pots to ones made of jade and metal. Tables set for a dinner that never came.

“Perhaps an earthquake?” McCree suggested. And it was a good suggestion because that would be a good reason for a whole city to flee in a hurry, and it would explain some of the ruins, but the closer they got to the castle, the more Angela doubted it.

They paused at the tall walls, the insignia of two dragons marking the gates. Open and far from welcoming.

“Do you feel that too?” she whispered, felt a chill run down her spine. McCree only gave her a questioning look and she had to swallow before she could answer. “Something is wrong here. It feels like we’re being watched.”

“You know just as I do that it’s impossible,” McCree said, trying to give her some comfort. “The city is abandoned. No signs of life anywhere. Talon isn’t here, so there’s no one to see us.”

She gave the gates a last doubtful look before she started walking again, passing through onto the castle grounds. “I don’t know. I’m just telling you what I feel.” A pause, and she picked up the orb from her bag and held it in front of her. “But I do think this is the right place. The orb is definitely warmer from before and-“

A movement.

With wide eyes, she looked at the steps up to the entrance of the castle, steps that had just moments before been empty.

A young man stared back at her. Eyes just as wide as hers, warm and _frightened_.

“Wait!” she called, starting to walk up to the stairs and the man seemed to panic, backing away as if she was the devil herself. And she called out for him again as he turned and ran inside, through the large doors hanging off their hinges, looking as if they had been partly torn down.

“Angela,” McCree spoke, catching up to her, a hand on her shoulder keeping her from running after the man. “Who were you calling out to?”

Another chill ran down her spine.

“You didn’t see…?”

McCree gave her a questioning look and Angela felt herself falter. Tried to convince herself that it had only been her imagination, a play of the light.

“Might be ghosts lingering here,” he said, grinning at her as if he had just told her one of his best jokes.

Rolling her eyes, she put away the orb and started walking up the stairs. If it was a ghost, if it actually truly was, then perhaps he could lead them to The Source. If anyone would know where it is, it would be the ghost. Simple.

Walking through the ruined doors, they immediately paused. While the village had been deserted, abandoned in a hurry, something else entirely had taken place in the castle.

Dark spots soaked up by wood.

Human remains slumped to the sides.

Claw marks running up the floors and walls, impossibly high for a human to reach.

“Uh, yep,” McCree said, staring wide-eyed at the room. “Think this is our cue to leave now.”

“If anything, this is our cue to continue,” Angela breathed, walked further in despite McCree’s protests. “Something happened here. And I want to find out what.”

Kneeling down at some remains, old fabric and no armor, she traced her fingers along the bones. Saw and felt no indication that they had died through the same claw marks of the wood around them. If not for the scene around them, she would’ve guessed they had died peacefully. Perhaps suffocation.

“This many dead bodies in one place,” she heard behind her and McCree had his gun ready. “Can’t mean anything good.”

Huffing at his silliness, because this job did come with certain risks and she doubted it would be any easier from here on, she wondered how he would react to a real tomb. If anything, those were full of dead people.

Shaking her head, she was just about to stand up once more, when her fingers bumped into paper. She frowned, picking up the small piece of parchment, translating it out loud for McCree.

“ _Master Hanzo has left us. For what we did, we deserve no mercy._ ”

McCree blinked at her, fingers trembling ever so slightly as he reached for a cigar. “That doesn’t sound worrying to you?”

At that, she shrugged, standing up and putting the small document in her bag. Fingers brushing past the orb, hot to the touch. “Well, we can’t leave. Talon is still following us and it’s only a matter of time before they find this place. We should use our head start to its fullest.”

Shaking his head slowly, McCree came up to her, deciding to stick close from then on. “Then let’s get that Source quickly and be out of here. I don’t like this none.”

Angela couldn’t help but agree, hair standing on her arms and in her neck, the feeling of being watched never leaving. Perhaps it was only the ghost, if it now _was_ a ghost, but either way, it wasn’t good.

And so they continued on, pushing further into the castle and following the trail of blood, the human remains thrown to the side and resting against the walls. Swords in their hands. Claw marks covering the walls.

Perhaps there was some truth in the monk’s words, about an evil being released. But it was a thought neither of them voiced out loud.

They paused only occasionally, when Angela spotted something of interest. Small relics and trinkets and notes of warning. Always followed by the feeling of being watched, movement at the corner of her eye.

“They seem all very cheery,” she huffed as she put yet another note in her bag. “Speaking of death and how they deserved it.”

“Wonder what they did.”

Angela didn’t answer and McCree cleared his throat, gun still ready in his hand. As if he could shoot the already dead.

They continued in silence, broken only by whispered translations of notes written in desperation. And as they pressed on, they entered a large room, a scroll hanging on the wall, cut in the corner from something else but claws.

Beneath it, the body of someone without armor. And it could’ve been anyone, a servant, a civilian, a priest, or just someone from the castle’s family. A large amulet haning from the neck, made of gold and carved with the same insignia of dragons. But these remains were different from the others they had passed.

It was missing its head.

“Must’ve been someone important,” Angela noted, crouching down to search through the body, finding some parchment. Looking like it had been torn from a journal. She read through it a couple of times, translating it quietly for herself as McCree leaned over her shoulder to try and read.

“Anything important?” He asked. “Or just another warning?”

“Actually, I think this one is important,” she whispered, turned the page back to where the scribbles began. Letting one of her hands rest on her bag, felt the warmth of the orb and somehow it gave her comfort.

With a deep breath, she translated for McCree.

“ _The ritual was a success. It is a rare sight to see, for the twin dragons to favor the same. It is a good sign indeed._ ” She flipped the page, saw movement in front of her and tried not to look at it. Perhaps afraid that if she did, the ghost would disappear once more. “ _Tomorrow, young master Genji shall go through the same ritual. We shall hope the dragons favor him just as much as they did with his brother._ ”

Blinking, she slowly raised her gaze, found the young man staring at her. Standing completely still, dressed in clothes fit for royalty at the time.

“Genji,” she whispered and the man’s lips parted ever so slightly. “ _Is that your name?_ ”

And those lips trembled into a smile, forming the name over and over as if he had once forgotten it. Yet there were no sounds leaving him, but it was proof enough that he was there and he was real.

Even if he was so only for Angela.

While McCree watched on in worry, Angela spoke once more.

“ _Why are you here? What happened to the city? To the castle?_ ”

The questions made the ghost, made Genji pause, and he looked at her in silence. Sadness slipping into his dark eyes before it was gone with a blink. He pressed his lips together, gaze leaving her as they searched the room, and then he looked back at her, gesturing with his hand for her to follow.

She got up from the floor, tugging McCree along as she followed Genji.

He led them through another corridor, a narrow one with walls completely covered in claw marks. As if the evil had been trying to claw its way out. And Angela had no reason to trust him, for all she knew he had been dead for a thousand years and could be leading them to their own deaths. But she was trusting McCree, someone she had known for only a day, so what had she to lose by trusting yet another stranger?

At the end of the corridor, Genji paused. Hand pressing against the wall before he turned, looked Angela in the eye, and then sank through the floor.

“Alright. Things are just getting stranger and stranger,” she muttered, walking up to where Genji had stood. She brushed her fingers where he had placed his, felt the wall give slightly and pressed down.

A soft _click_.

And then the floor opened up.

“Y’know, you’re starting to freak me out,” McCree said, lifting his hat slightly as he looked down the hole. “Where does it lead?”

“I think it’s just a hidden space,” she answered, sitting down to dangle her feet down the gap. “Or, it could be their catacombs. Only one way to find out!”

“Wait, _what_?!”

But Angela had already jumped down, McCree not quick enough to grab her arm before she could, and she tumbled down on the ground with a huff. Air knocked out of her lungs. When she stood up again, Genji stood just before her, giving her an encouraging smile.

Behind her, McCree landed and managed to not fall to the ground, groaning at the old air he was forced to breathe.

Genji began walking again, Angela and McCree following him in silence.

There were no human remains in the tunnel, only dark spots covering the stone walls, tattered cloth here and there. Angela only paused when she saw familiar parchment on the ground, looking once more as if they had been torn. And as they walked, she picked up more and more.

“ _The Elders are unpleased_ ,” she began to translate for McCree. Genji only glanced back at them, slowing the pace. “ _I wonder what has enraged them so, for they do not wish for the ritual to be stopped. They demand for it to be interrupted halfway through._ ” She flipped the page. “ _I have tried to warn them. No good will come from this. Yet I fear the anger of the Elders as much as I fear the dragons. I have no choice._ ”

“So there was a ritual,” McCree mumbled, a shiver running through his body. “The monk was right.”

Angela glanced briefly at him, wondered if he was going to bail on her. But even though he looked pale, believing whole-heartedly in what the monk had spoken of, he only gripped the gun tighter for comfort.

She continued reading.

“ _It has been done. My dreams have been haunted by nightmares ever since. Unable to die and yet unable to live. What kind of faith have we doomed him to?_ ”

A quick glance at Genji, but he kept his gaze and focus forward. Angela wasn’t sure he could understand them, wondered still if he had read these notes before.

Wondered just what they had done to him.

“ _A ghost wanders the grounds, taking the life of those foolish men and women who desired power over all,_ ” she read from the last page, saw the desperation in the writing. " _One after another they fall, the revenge truly deserved. Master Hanzo was wise to leave us when he did._ ”

She looked up at Genji, saw the tension in his shoulders, the way he so intent kept his gaze forward. As if he was scared, perhaps even ashamed, of looking back to her and McCree. And she just couldn’t figure it out. It felt like she had most of the pieces of the puzzle, and yet she had no idea where to start. What the finished piece was supposed to look like.

“Genji,” she began, saw how he seemed to relax by hearing his own name. Dread settling in her own stomach. “ _Where are you taking us?_ ”

But Genji didn’t answer, couldn’t without a voice, and so he stopped instead. Just outside a sealed door, the remains of a priest by its base, the symbol of the clan held close to his chest. A parchment sticking up from inside the cloth.

Swallowing, trying to get rid of the nervousness in her stomach, the feeling that something was so terribly wrong and that perhaps it would’ve been best if they had turned and went back before. Back to safety and back to a world without claw marks and dark rituals and dragons.

The talk of magic as if it was real.

She picked up the parchment, the last page of the torn journal, and read it with a shaky voice.

“ _A monk from the Shambali came by, but even he could not repel the demon._ ” A short pause, meeting McCree’s gaze. “ _We sealed off the chamber together in the hopes of keeping the evil away. I suspect the monk stole something from within, but I am tired. I have failed my duties and my fear has stolen my honor._ ” She turned the page. “ _My time has drawn near. We deserve no less._ ”

McCree looked at her, didn’t need to speak the words for her to understand. The Shambali monk. The orb they had found most likely stolen from within the sealed chamber. A ritual within, with a purpose perhaps not to summon evil, but something else.

“Angela,” he spoke, noted the look in her eyes as she turned towards the door, couldn’t see how Genji wildly gestured towards it, couldn’t see how even the ghost couldn’t get inside it. “It’s sealed for a reason. Perhaps it’s best if it stays that way.”

“But,” she asked, frowning at the door with no way to open it. “What about Talon?”

And from behind them, a sweet voice she couldn’t recognize. The click of a loaded gun.

“Yes, what about us?”

 

*

 

“You won’t find The Source in there!” Angela called, tried to struggle against the rope binding her wrists behind her back.

“ _Won’t find The Source_ ,” the Talon agent mocked, seemed to be the leader of the group. “Just watch us, Miss Ziegler. We’ll find The Source of Immortality in there. Just like we found the Shambali temple in Nepal.” A pause as he leaned down to her, a wide grin with too much teeth. “Thank you for leading us here. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

She spat at his face and he reeled back, wiping the spit off his cheek. Grin turned sour. He turned to McCree instead, who struggled much wilder against the restraints, his gun taken from him.

“And look who we have here. _Deadeye_ , all powerless.” The leader lashed out without warning, a hard kick to McCree’s stomach that had him doubling over. “Hm. Expected more from a man of your reputation.”

A soft huff, a grin despite the pain in his eyes. “Untie me and I’ll show you firsthand.”

The man looked like he actually considered it for a second, but then waved dismissively at them, turning back to the agents setting explosions at the door. Angela shifted once again, looking at Genji who stood by just to the side, shock and fear written on his features. As if he didn’t understand. As if he was waiting for Angela to explain it to him.

But she couldn’t.

One of the agents started counting down, and Angela turned her head away from the door, bracing herself before the door blew open, pieces of stone falling around them.

“Now let’s see what the Shimada Clan was hiding from the world!”

With a gun at her head, she was forced to get up and walk, entering the room just after the leader.

The room was large, circular, a high ceiling. Paintings covering the walls, kanji written at the base. And in the middle of the floor, the insignia of the Shimada clan; two swirling dragons. A thin crack running down through it, a chain leading up to the ceiling.

She stood completely still, Genji joining her side and looking at the room with just as wide eyes as hers. Together, they watched as the Talon agents put up lights around the room, illuminating the paintings on the walls.

A human bowing down.

One golden and one dark orb placed to the human’s sides.

A dragon looming tall above, seeming to be judging.

A transfer of power, the dragon and human becoming one.

Frowning, Angela glanced back at Genji, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. Slowly, slowly, creating the whole picture she had missed. That had been laid out for her from the very start. She had just been too blind to see it.

The leader approached her, grabbed her bag and grabbed the orb. And just as his fingers curled around it, Genji turned to her, fear and desperation in his eyes before he faded into nothingness. As if he had never existed at all.

“Thank you for keeping this safe for us,” the leader said and Angela wished she had her gun. He walked into the middle of the room, tossing the orb in his hands while he looked up the chain.

Angela was pushed to the side, standing next to McCree. The Talon agents whispering, trying to figure out where The Source could be hidden. A silent suggestion to blow up something more.

“Give me the orb,” Angela said, voice loud in the room, the echo carrying her voice high. “Untie me and give me the orb, and I’ll bring you The Source of Immortality.”

The leader looked her over and then his lips split into a grin, nodding to his agents who cut the ropes around her wrists. “Told you it was a good idea to keep her around! She’s her parents’ daughter alright.”

She held out her hand and the orb was placed in her palm, burning so hot it felt like her skin would melt. Yet she knew that it wouldn’t. Genji appeared before her, a relieved smile on his lips and Angela dared a small smile back.

Holding the orb close to her chest, she walked to the other side of the room, felt everyone’s gazes on her. Saw the guns pointed at her head, ready to shoot if she tried anything. And while she walked, she read the kanji written on the walls around her, memorizing their words.

“Step off the symbol on the floor,” she said, didn’t bother to check if the agents did it or not, and then she opened the small panel in the wall that Genji was pointing at. She cranked the hidden mechanism inside, and the chains above them rattled to life. Slowly, two small platforms were lowered from the ceiling.

A dark orb resting on one of them. Seeming to swallow the light around it.

Walking around the room, reading the last of the kanji as she did, she found the last mechanism. With one lever, the floor parted, letting the chain dangle freely in the air, disappearing in the bottomless darkness beneath.

“This,” she breathed, wiped sweat away from her forehead with the back of her hand. Took a whiff in the air and recognized the smell. “This is a tomb. Built afterwards. A seal and a desperate way to try and get rid of something dark.”

To her side, Genji looked at her. Something sorrowful and longing in his eyes. And Angela had a feeling that he too had put the pieces of the puzzle together. Realizing what had been done to him and what he had done in turn.

“But you see, the darkness was never his fault,” Angela continued, pulling at the last lever. Slowly, the lone chain rattled, something large pulled up from beneath. “The ritual was interrupted. And I don’t think it could’ve turned out any other way.”

A low thud echoed in the room as the chain could go no further, the object pulled up and dangling slowly in the air. She cranked the other lever, closing the floor beneath it, finally setting it to rest.

The room was silent for but a second, everyone staring at the dark wood, the insignia of the Shimada carved into it. Disappearing amongst claw marks, the scratches close to one another, running deep into the wood, as if someone desperately had tried to open it.

McCree found her gaze from across the room. Spoke with a silent question in his voice. “It’s a coffin.”

The click of a gun, cool metal pressing against her head. The leader nodded towards the coffin.

“Open it.”

Feeling a strange calmness in her bones, be it from fear of an imminent death fi she took a step wrong, or be it from Genji’s presence next to her, taking every step along with her. She slowly walked up to the empty platform, across from the coffin and across from the dark orb.

Gently, oh so gently, she placed the orb in its place, returning what had once been stolen.

A faint smile, a strange and familiar determination flaring up in Genji’s eyes. And then he faded into air.

Looking over at the leader, Angela kept his cold gaze as she walked up to the coffin. The lock wasn’t complicated, at least not for her. She had opened a thousand of these as a child, always finding treats and sweets within. Now, she knew, there would be a much greater reward for her.

Two soft _clicks_ , a third _tick_ and then a last _click_ so soft it could barely be heard. A tremble going through the coffin as the mechanism within unlocked. She could taste the tension, the _excitement_ , in the air as she gently placed her hands on the lid and pushed.

There were no scent of death and decay. Only the sweet scent of cherry blossoms in spring.

She stood up slowly, seeing its contents for the first time in a thousand years. And inside, looking as if he was only asleep, as if he hadn’t been stuck in that coffin for a millennia, lied Genji.

Whispers and murmurs rose in the room and Angela took her chance to back away, back pressing to the wall of faded kanji. Knowing what she must do.

“This isn’t The Source of Immortality!” The leader all but shouted, fury marking his voice. “It’s just a boy!”

With a deep breath, Angela started speaking, voice loud enough to carry through the room. Words not having been spoken there for so long. Words never finished.

“ _With blood of honor and with blood of old. Son of the Shimada and son of the Dragons._ ”

The Talon agents turn to her, guns pointed at her head once more.

“What is she saying?!” The leader roared, gesturing towards her. Angela only looked him straight in the eye and continued.

“ _Bow down to their power and offer your soul to them, and may they judge you rightfully. If their judgement is just, become born anew._ ”

Finally catching on what she was doing, McCree grinned up at her, an encouraging smile for her to continue. Because this was a tomb now, but once it had been a room of ritual. One without a purpose of evil, but had summoned such after words never spoken.

Angela was finishing what had been started.

“Stop her!” The leader screamed, all desperation as he was trying to get around the coffin and the orbs, no longer glowing but resembling two large chunks of metal. “I said _stop her!_ ”

“ _May you become the dragon_ ,” she managed before she was pushed down to the floor, gun pressed against the back of her head, ready to shoot at the leader’s command. A foot against her back, pressing her breath out of her.

Yet she didn’t hesitate. Because just before her, there was a movement, a ghost of a person who had been asleep for a thousand years, bowing low before disappearing, taking her fear with him. Allowed her to speak with the calmness of a storm.

“ _And may the dragon become you_.”

For a second, everything in the room slowed down. The pause of shock when you realize the bomb you set might just go off a second too early.

But then when the seconds dragged on and nothing happened, when there were no explosion and no devil coming to claim their souls, the leader burst into laughter. It didn’t sound relieved, but mocking and too loud. Soon joined by his agents.

“What nonsense!” He roared with laughter, almost bending double with tears at the corner of his eyes. “Gave us quite a scare, you did! But for what? Huh?! _For what?!_ ”

There was a rage in his voice, a new type of crazy in his eyes, because she had just ridiculed him amongst his own.

“Line them both up!” He called, gesturing to her and McCree with his gun. And McCree was pushed into her side, fingers in her blonde hair to pull her head back and expose her throat. As if the leader was a dog ready to bite. “Now tell me where The Source of Immortality is!”

Angela didn’t answer, kept her gaze behind the leader. Staring at the black coffin.

“Tell me,” the leader hissed, pressing his gun against McCree’s forehead and she knew he wasn’t bluffing. “Or _Deadeye’s_ brains will paint the walls.”

A hand gripped the edge of the coffin.

And Angela remained silent as Genji slowly sat up. Fingers held in front of his face as if he saw them for the first time. As if he had just woken up from a long nap and could yet to tell reality apart from dream.

Then he met her eyes. Green and burning. Smoke curling around him like a snake.

The leader hesitated, turned slightly to follow Angela’s gaze. And then everything happened at once.

A gun was fired, the sound echoing through the room, bouncing from wall to wall in an endless symphony.

Genji, moving amongst the Talon agents as fluid as water, quicker than the eye could follow. Tearing and scratching and clawing, _ripping_ them apart.

Gunshots ringing out, the dragon moving faster than the bullets that never hit him, tearing up the screams and shouts.

“What did you do?!” The leader gripped Angela’s shirt, lifting her off the ground. “What the hell did you do?!”

And Angela said in complete calmness, “His soul was trapped. I simply set it free again.”

The fear, the realization of what she had done, grabbed a hold of the leader at once and he stumbled back from her in disbelief. Stumbled back until he bumped into Genji, turned as smoke surrounded his body, pleas falling from his lips in a language Genji didn’t understand.

And so they held no meaning, as a head was ripped off and a body tumbled to the ground.

There was a pause in the air, a complete and deafening silence, and then the smoke left Genji with a single breath. Burning green disappearing with a blink. Slowly, oh so slowly, as if he was afraid of scaring Angela if he moved too fast, he walked up to her. Sank to the floor in front of her, head bowed low.

 “ _There are no words to express my gratitude_ ,” he whispered in a voice hoarse of time. “ _Without you, I would still be lost. Without a name and without a chance of peace. Thank you._ ” Forehead touching the cold floor. “ _Thank you_.”

“ _Please_ ,” Angela whispered back, a hand on his shoulder. Warm and secure and real. “ _Please, there’s no need to. I never did anything heroic of the like, I simply did what was right to save the life of another_.”

Slowly, Genji sat back up, met her eye and seemed to melt. “ _How can you know I deserved it? Deserved to be saved?_ _You’ve read the words left behind. You’ve seen what I did._ ”

“ _Because of the ritual_ ,” she answered. “ _The dragons had already judged you, deemed you worthy. I trust that they are right. Besides,_ ” she added with a smile. “ _You were our best hope of survival_.”

He laughed at that, voice still hoarse and dry, and yet so brilliant and _alive_. And he looked at her like he’d seen the sun for the first time, fingers clasping hers. Lips pressed against her knuckles, and she could feel his smile against her skin, the warmth on her cheeks and-

McCree cleared his throat.

“Hate to ruin the moment darlin’,” he said, grinning ear to ear and didn’t seem too sorry at all. Wiggled in his ropes. “But a little help?”

 

*

 

The air of the mountain was cold and fresh, felt like a blessing after the tomb and the long walk through the abandoned city.

Genji looked around them in awe, standing at the very edge of the cliff with arms spread wide and _breathed_ for the first time in a millennia. Bathing in the falling sun.

“So what about him?” McCree asked, tilting his chin in Genji’s direction. Hand resting casually on the holster of his gun. “What do we do with him?”

Angela sighed, hugged her arms closer to herself to guard off the cold. “We can’t let him run wild in society, I don’t even want to imagine the mess it would be. The best would be for him to follow us.”

“Follow us?”

“Yes,” Angela answered with a smile, glancing up at McCree. Excitement fluttering in her stomach. “Hanamura isn’t the only lost city in the world. The Source isn’t the only legend. And, I figure, we could use his skills.”

“You reckon there’ll be more strange orbs and crazy rituals out there?”

A soft laughter. “I do.”

“So, what about The Source of Immortality?” McCree asked, looking at Angela and tilting his hat at her. “It wasn't in the chamber."

“The Source was the ritual, nothing more than the merging of souls. And I believe,” Angela said and only had eyes for Genji, turning slightly to look at her, the sun a halo around him and his smile even warmer, “that we have already found it.”


End file.
